I Have a Reason to Hate Streamers
Chapter 35 Table of contents

“What… What on earth is happening here?!”
“Can this match really be going this way? Normally, it’s almost impossible for an assassin to beat a spear knight, even at the highest professional level. It’s not entirely unbeatable, but generally, it’s a hard-won victory! That’s the common knowledge.”
“But this... this is brutal! It was just one mistake. Actually, I’m not even sure we can call it a mistake. Yet, the punishment is so severe!”

The commentators were losing their composure, their shocked voices cutting through the air. No matter the culture or the language, every broadcast team was expressing similar disbelief, though in their own ways.

Professional gamers observing the match had a different reaction—a heavy silence settled among them, refusing to leave. Among them, players from LB, like Rime himself, had furrowed brows as they watched the match unfold.

“Rime’s shield bash… narrowly misses.”
“We’re seeing the same pattern over and over. He’s being whittled down unilaterally!”

The match on screen didn’t look like it would end anytime soon. With his lance’s firing mechanism disabled, Rime’s attacks became sluggish, easily dodged by Gawol. Her retaliatory dagger strikes sliced through his hardened muscles, leaving scars before retreating.

On the surface, it seemed like Gawol couldn’t penetrate the spear knight’s defenses. But there was a reason the commentators described it as ‘brutal.’

Gawol wasn’t using any major attacks on purpose. Assassin skills were quick to activate, but at this distance, anything could happen. Instead, she hunted the spear knight slowly, like rain soaking through clothes.

It almost looked like she was toying with him. Unsurprisingly, complaints started appearing in the chat.

 

The sentiment quickly spread to other pro gamers.

In the player viewing area, reserved along the edges of the stage, a sense of anger began to linger among the players waiting their turn. Few could escape the grip of that ghostly ire.

One of those few was Reaper, the boy with deep, dark circles under his eyes. He watched the match with a pure smile on his face.

‘Lack of professionalism? They don’t understand a thing!’

Reaper didn’t get caught up in the emotions of others. Quite the opposite—he thought Gawol and Rime were showing what it truly meant to be pros.

Gawol wasn’t refusing to end the match; she simply couldn’t. Even with slim odds, if the spear knight managed to grab her, he could turn the tide. If Reaper were in Rime’s position, he would try the same.

Choosing the longest path if it guaranteed victory. Pursuing success, even if it meant enduring public scorn. No matter how bleak it looked, he would never give up until the end.

To Reaper, this was what being a pro meant—a fanatical obsession with winning. The perfect pro gamer was a maniac who acted as though they would die if they didn’t win.

And now, people were suggesting she should take risks to avoid making the opponent uncomfortable? For Reaper, this wasn’t even worth considering. Pro gamers played to make their fans happy, not their opponents. If Gawol had fans, they’d be thrilled right now.

Reaper could feel it. He was enjoying Gawol’s gameplay immensely.

“It’s tough, really tough. The spear knight just can’t keep up with the assassin’s speed without his cannon! They can’t even exchange blows!”
“I hate to say it, but it’s hard to see any hope for him in close combat, either. Rime’s not the type to win on physical prowess.”
“Exactly. On the other hand, Gawol’s performance in the preliminaries shows some impressive physical abilities. Her match against Camellia was a clear display. She’s not someone to underestimate as an amateur.”

Reaper had stumbled upon Gawol’s match by chance.

During the first round of preliminaries, he’d been watching Sylphie’s stream while eating. An unknown assassin who defeated Europe’s resident witch—it had barely registered at the time. But after seeing her name among the finalists, his curiosity had been piqued.

He became captivated while watching her match against Haruka. The first bout was… stunningly beautiful.

The trembling of her right hand, as if it was struggling through pain. Her joyous laughter as she knelt down in victory. It was profoundly moving.

 

Yes, exactly. That’s what made this match even more significant.

This was the last round where the weapon break would be in effect. Even if she lost this one, Rime would still have another chance. He would have to fight on the edge once again.

So right now, as she controlled the tempo, she was draining his stamina and focus. Unlike a character, a player’s concentration couldn’t be restored. Boldly, this amateur assassin was taking on a pro in a battle of endurance.

To most people, it seemed insane. But all highly successful pros were broken in some way.

“Oh! A perfectly executed tendon slice!”
“Look at Rime’s debuff list; he’s overwhelmed. Fighting in these conditions is nearly impossible.”
“It’s incredible he’s still able to use his shield. That shows his fighting spirit.”

Tendons tore and muscles ripped. His desperate attacks were easily read and countered. The dwindling health bar and the pain weren’t the worst part.

It was the torment of repeatedly failing, of barely missing his target. His every move seemed pre-empted by a faster, sharper response, as if he was facing an impenetrable wall. This feeling of helplessness gripped him like a vice.

Finally, as the spear knight collapsed with his stamina depleted, a collective sigh rose from the audience.

“Ah… Rime has fallen at last.”
“The North American powerhouse, LB’s Iron Spear Knight, has been brought down—concluding Group E’s first match!”

Posted by: LabReportThief
Title: Hey, what happened in Group E?

I just got out of the lab, so I missed it. Did Gawol’s match end? Did she lose?

Comments:

 

Posted by: Sulbbang
Title: Why am I getting PTSD from just watching a match?

What’s going on? Why… Why am I crying?

Comments:

 

Posted by: SpearKnightOneTrick
Title: Damn, I feel so bad for Rime

If this happened to me in ranked instead of a tournament, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night. And he had to endure that on a global broadcast? And he’s not some noob like me, but a pro gamer?

How do you even play after that? Would it have been different if he wasn’t a spear knight? Ugh...

His movements were noticeably weaker compared to the last match. It meant the effects were still lingering. He was only human, after all. Some things just couldn’t be brushed off, no matter how much one tried to compose themselves.

Once it set in, the sense of helplessness became even sharper. The failures of the previous round, the fundamental reaction time gap, and the inherent differences in agility all gnawed away at him.

I’d been there myself.

When I first started kendo, I was naturally talented. Kids my age couldn’t match me, and I quickly caught up to my seniors who’d started long before me. Until I met him, I thought I was a prodigy.

So yes, I understood the agony of failure. And I knew how to wield it.

“Hah…”

A brief sigh. As a fellow competitor—or rather, a former competitor—I fully understood those emotions. But I didn’t offer any sympathy.

Crunch! Crackle!

The broken armor gave way, and my dagger sank into his neck. His gun lance, still ablaze, clattered to the ground as the match came to an end.

The commentators’ voices, muted during the battle, came back on.

“And with a complete counter to Rime’s final attack, the match concludes!”
“What an upset! Who could have imagined that an unrecognized amateur would bring down North America’s Rime like this?”
“And the fact that she beat a spear knight, despite the class disadvantage, says a lot. Assassin players must be celebrating right now.”
“But there are also people visibly suffering, sympathizing with him. As someone who used to play a warrior myself, I can’t help but feel for him.”

As soon as the match ended, I stepped back onto the stage. On the other side, the spear knight reappeared, looking more exhausted than before.

We shook hands and exchanged brief greetings. I headed to the viewing room for the other players, while Rime left the stage. That night, Rime didn’t sleep; he spent over ten hours grinding in dueling mode.

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